


Juyona Kangae

by EternalSurvivor



Category: Naruto
Genre: A cake was hurt in the making of this oneshot, Birthday goes wrong?, Birthday kinda goes right?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hatake Kakashi Needs a Hug, Iruka Can't Cook, Iruka distroys the kitchen, Iruka doesn't like it, Kakashi is secretive, M/M, No Beta, Retrospective on a complicated relationship, So was an Iruka, Sprinklers and fire alarms, This was supposed to be all fluff, Umino Iruka-centric, What happened to the fluff? GAHH, i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 09:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSurvivor/pseuds/EternalSurvivor
Summary: Iruka 'I cannot cook' Umino tries to bake a birthday cake for his... boyfriend...? Lover...? Extended hook-up? What exactly ARE they?





	Juyona Kangae

**Author's Note:**

> It is canon that Iruka can't cook. I just took advantage of that. If you don't believe me type "Iruka cooking" into tumblr and watch the second clip. :D

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

“Oh no!” Iruka felt an adrenaline-filled panic rise in his chest. With a short cry, he lunged for the stove, turning it off with a crank of the wrist. “No, no, no, no!!” The entire apartment filled with a grey haze, making it difficult to see. The fire alarms blared in both the kitchen and living room. With a sigh, he unlocked the closest window and flung it open. Smoke billowed out into the warm afternoon air.

Well, there goes Kakashi’s birthday cake. So much for the surprise. Begrudgingly, Iruka pulled the blackened lump from the stove. The burnt smell made his nose crinkle slightly. Could this get any worse?

A light click from above answered the unspoken question. Water trickled down onto him at a steady pace. The Sprinkler. Great.

Just great.

With a disappointed grunt, Iruka threw the burned cake, pan and all, into the kitchen sink. There was no salvaging it. His threw open a second window, clothes already damp. Frustrated tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. The brunette sank to his haunches; hands gripping his thighs, teeth gritted. He was not going to cry over a damn cake.

He was _not_ going to cry over a damn-

Iruka’s shoulders tensed a bit. Well, he was crying over a cake.

What had he been thinking? Iruka couldn’t cook to save his soul. Kakashi didn’t celebrate his birthday anyway. He kept the date hidden from his closest bonds. Naruto, Sakura, Tenzo… Even Gai had no clue (much to the man’s horror when he realized that). Iruka had snuck a peek at Kakashi's personnel file to find it out. Now, he was going to walk in to find their apartment a smokey, wet mess.

They’d only been seeing each other about a month when some drunk shinobi got the bright idea to show off a damn Katon jutsu inside the apartment building. The smoke damage alone displace several shinobi from their homes: Kakashi included. Iruka immediately insisted his new lover move in with him.

He probably should’ve thought that one through a bit more.  Sure, the sex was great. It was just that though. Sex. A hook up that lasted longer than intended. They’d gotten ramen at Ichiraku’s together a few times. Kakashi flirted relentlessly (and rather horribly) when he passed through the Mission Desk, but that was it. He wasn’t sure what their relationship was. Did this count as dating? He hadn't dated too many people before. Iruka lacked the experience to answer that question on his own. Asking Kakashi…

That wasn't an option.

Asking Kakashi to move in so soon was impulsive and unplanned. Best of intentions or not. It left them both feeling awkward, and more than a little tense. Kakashi's mission load suddenly increased, keeping him busier and busier. They passed by each other some days with nothing more than a quick greeting. Iruka came home more than once to find Kakashi passed out on the sofa; chakra-exhausted and injured. Not in their bed, on the sofa. Most nights he wasn't even home. It was frustrating.

Iruka wanted more, hence the failed birthday cake attempt.

“Mah, Mah Sensei, having a little trouble?”

“K-Kakashi!” Iruka cried in surprise. He'd been lost in his head and hadn't heard the jounin come in. He leapt to his feet quickly to greet Kakashi and banged his head on the cupboard edge. “Youch!” He yelped, crouching down with a hand clasped over the spot.

“Are you okay?” Kakashi was at Iruka’s side by the time he had his eyes open. Embarrassment burned more than the blow actually hurt. His cheeks tingled crimson.

“I’m fine!”

Kakashi hummed in response. His visible eye scanned the ruined kitchen lazily. The smoke dissipated enough for the sprinkler to stop. Kakashi retrieved an ice pack from the freezer, noting the burnt cake discarded in the sink.“You had an eventful afternoon it seems.”

“Don’t rub it in.” Iruka snatched the ice pack from his lover’s hand. “I know I can’t bake.” He held the ice to his temple. The cold helped ease the throbbing some, though did little for his embarrassment. He felt like a fool. “This was a stupid idea.”

Kakashi studied the younger man, then the burnt cake. “...Was this for me?” he asked slowly. The hesitation was clear in each carefully planned word. For a moment, Iruka feared he'd bolt if he confirmed the suspicion.

“It’s September fifteenth.” Iruka felt his ears begin to burn. His stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot. “Your birthday.” He added quietly.

“I’m aware of that. You, however, should not be.”

“Well, maybe I wanted to celebrate with you. Did you ever consider that?” Iruka scowled in frustration, jaw tense and brows furrowed. “We barely talk. I haven’t seen more than a few moments of you all week.” He knew he was getting snippy. His failure put him in a bad mood. Kakashi’s carefully calculated reaction wasn’t helping. “I know we haven’t been… involved for long, but you’ve been dancing around me since you to move in here. I’m not going to bite.”

“Well, there was that one-”

“Be serious for once in your life!” Iruka was on his feet, ice pack discarded on this floor. “I asked you to move in because I wanted you too!” The words came out faster than his mind processed them. Word vomit. He'd most likely regret this later. “You are the most evasive man I’ve ever know!” He jabbed his finger hard into Kakashi’s flank jacket, accentuating each word. “I want to spend more time with you; to get to know you. I want to wake up with you next to me; to come to me when you’re hurting. This. What even is this?!” He gestured between them wildly. “You don’t tell me anything. Not about you. Not about us. Nothing! You don’t even kiss-”

With the speed only a jounin possessed, Kakashi pulled his mask down and dragged Iruka forward with a yank of his apron. The crush of his lips was hard and demanding. Iruka felt a shiver run up his spine. He’d gotten caught mid-rant, mouth open and unsuspecting. Kakashi’s hand rounded his head and dug into his hair. Iruka’s hair tie broke, giving his lover a firm fist full of brown locks. He took advantage of that, dragging the chunin's head back to better expose his throat.

“K-Kakashi.” Iruka managed to get his brain and mouth to coordinate enough to get the word out, stunned and breathless. The bruising kiss left his lips reddened.

“Don’t.” Kakashi hissed and pressed his opened mouth to Iruka’s neck; just above the collar of his shinobi blues. The chunin stilled, stuttered; inhaled sharply and breathed out a soft groan. Kakashi could feel his pulse quicken just beneath his lips. “Just, don’t.” It was almost a plea.

Kakashi pushed him back until his back hit the messy countertop. Iruka’s breath caught hard when he kissed the underside of his jaw and undid the apron. With a quick tug, it fell to the floor with the ice pack. Kakashi kissed along his jaw and down his throat, mouth opening in a light bite to his collarbone. One hand slid beneath his shirt, palm pressed flat over his stomach. Iruka shuddered in a tremor than ran the entire length of his body. His abdominal muscles flexed. “Kakashi...?”

“I can’t-” The jounin cut himself off, face buried in Iruka's shoulder. Raspy and half choked, he managed: “I can’t lose anyone else.”

An allusion to more aspects of his lover Iruka knew nothing about. So many secrets Kakashi kept hidden from him. The chunin’s hands clenched around the counter edge. “Then stop pushing me away.” Teeth clenched as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Eyes squeezed tight against the tears threatening to fall. The confession burned on his tongue, heart aching with longing and sorrow for this wonderful, broken man. “I love you.”

A strangled, pained cry muffled against his shoulder. They were both shaking now.

Iruka leaned into his lover; pressed his cheek to Kakashi’s hair. He couldn’t see his face. “I don’t expect you to say it back.” He grasped his wrist lightly. “I just… I just want you. All of you. Not immediately, but more than this. We both deserve more. I want you to be happy.”

Kakashi’s shoulders dropped in exhaustion, but Iruka could feel the nod against his shoulder. “Perhaps...” He started with a hesitant caution. His fingers loosened in Iruka’s hair, sliding down to massage his nape slowly. “Perhaps dinner out for my birthday would be better than eating that cake?”

Iruka’s jaw slacked. Was that a joke or an insult? Dammit, Kakashi- He paused, shook his head, and decided to let it go for now. He wanted more. This was a chance. “It's the thought that counts.”

“Indeed. But the birthday boy deserves his favourite meal, right Sensei?”

Iruka decided to push it a bit farther. His arms raised to wrap around Kakashi's shoulders. “And what exactly is that?” He remained nestled against his lover, taking a moment to enjoy the contact he’d been missing. When had they ever just held each other? Comforted each other? Relied on each other at all? That needed to change.

Kakashi pillowed his head against Iruka's upper arm and hummed. He waited a moment before replying. “Salt-broiled saury and miso soup with eggplant.” He suddenly sounded tired. So, so tired.

That was something he hadn't know about Kakashi. Something so simple; like his birth date. But the information was given willingly, openly. It was a start. Iruka could work with that. “I wasn't expecting that.”

Kakashi eyed the blackened birthday cake over Iruka's shoulder. "...Mah, I don't much like sweets anyway."

Yes, he could definitely work with this.


End file.
